In the Dead of Night

In the dead of night
when most are sleeping
her deadly harmonies
drift on evil winds.

Haunting melodies urge
wickedness forward
to claim the souls
of any left stranded.

They appear, demented,
by her satanic tune
sin crazed creatures
controlled by music.

Their bodies contort
in misshapen movement
jacked-up on hunger
desperate to feed.

If you find yourself
caught in the dark
keep your head low,
breath held tight

wait for dawn to come
when they crawl below
to the cursed depths
of hell they call home

until the moon returns
and she sings once more
then they’ll rise again
seeking souls to devour.

~The H Word~

#NaPoWriMo2020 Day24

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Wendy Pratt

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